


Daybreak

by Gwenpools_Aesthetic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Challenge #2, Daybreak, Did I write something without Matt Murdock in it?, First Time, I didn't know that was possible!, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky Fistposting (Defrost) 2019, Stucky Fistposting Fic Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwenpools_Aesthetic/pseuds/Gwenpools_Aesthetic
Summary: July 5, 1934Brooklyn.Two boys are on a fire escape.The little one is asleep. His body is sprawled out, taking up more room than seems possible for how emaciated he is. When he breathes in, his ribs poke visibly into the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. When he breathes out, his breath is shaky and catches in his lungs. His hair is blonde and his skin is pale. There’s a fading bruise on the left side of his jaw. He’s smiling just a little.The big one is awake. He has dark brown hair and eyes. He’s solid, although maybe a little thinner than he should be. He’s watching the little one sleep. His eyes are sad.This was written for the Stucky Fistposting (Defrost) Fic Challenge Prompt #2: "Daybreak."





	Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Stucky Fistposting Friday Fic Challenge #2. The theme was "Daybreak."
> 
> Our boys are 16 and 17 here, so please stop now if that bothers you at all.

July 5, 1934

Brooklyn.

Two boys are on a fire escape.

The little one is asleep. His body is sprawled out, taking up more room than seems possible for how emaciated he is. When he breathes in, his ribs poke visibly into the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. When he breathes out, his breath is shaky and catches in his lungs. His hair is blonde and his skin is pale. There’s a fading bruise on the left side of his jaw. He’s smiling just a little. 

The big one is awake. He has dark brown hair and eyes. He’s solid, although maybe a little thinner than he should be. He’s watching the little one sleep. His eyes are sad.

It won’t be long before dawn. The big one doesn’t need to look at a clock; he can tell. He can feel the air changing. There’s a fog rolling in, filling the air with a fine mist. The little one shouldn’t be out in the fog. He’s going to get sick again.

The big one can’t bring himself to wake the little one. Not when he’s so peaceful. Not when he’s smiling.

Yesterday had been the little one’s 16th birthday, and it had been hot. They had gone to Coney Island and walked on the beach. They’d rolled their pant-legs up and walked in the water. A girl, Bonnie, had come up to the big one. She wanted him to take her on the Wonder Wheel. He had gone with her a few steps, then looked back at the little one. The little one was smiling then, too, but it wasn’t like this smile. It wasn’t a real smile. The big one had told Bonnie that it was his pal’s birthday, but that he’d see her around, ok? She had kissed him on the cheek. 

Girls liked the big one. They didn’t really care for the little one, because he was so little. Girls liked boys who were bigger than they were. The big one thought girls were idiots. They were nice to look at, and they were soft, and they smelled good, but they were idiots. They didn’t know what they were missing. The little one… he was perfect. 

The big one stared down at the little one as he slept. The moon had set. It was dark. He didn’t need to see the little one, though, to know the curve of his mouth. He didn’t need to see the little one to know the way his hair fell across his face as he was sleeping, or the way his ears stuck out from his head just a little, or the way his eyebrows sometimes knitted with worry when he didn’t think the bigger one was looking. 

They had eaten hot dogs, and gone on all the rides, and stayed until it was too late. The big one hadn’t eaten lunch for the past month, saving his money so the little one could have whatever he wanted on his birthday. It was worth it. They had passed a fruit vendor on the way home. The big one had bought one plum for each of them, to end the night. When the little one had wrapped his lips around the piece of fruit, and smiled and sighed at the sweet taste, the big one had melted and - for just a moment - imagined those lips wrapping around other things.

It was a sin, what he imagined. He knew it. He wasn’t an idiot. But, if he remembered correctly, what Bonnie wanted to do with him was a sin too, considering they weren’t married. And nobody ever batted an eye at that. That was expected. That was meaningless. The little one wasn’t meaningless. The little one was everything.

They had walked back to the bigger one’s apartment. His folks were gone, like most nights. They pulled the cushions off of the couch, and old tradition now, laying them out on the floor. But it was hot in the small apartment. The windows had been shut tight, the air inside baking all day. It was dusty, too, and the little one wheezed. 

“Let’s sleep outside, Buck,” the little one had said. “Let’s pull the cushions onto the fire escape and sleep out there.”

The big one hadn’t wanted to. “Air’s too damp,” he had said. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“Air’s better out there than it is in here,” the little one had replied. “‘Sides, the doc said fresh air is good for me, remember?”

The big one couldn’t argue. He didn’t have a good reason to. He couldn’t say “But I wanna hold you, Stevie, and if I do it out there then someone might see us,” because that wasn’t a thing that you said. So he had agreed, and they had hauled the cushions out the window and slept under the stars. Or, the little one had slept. The big one had stayed awake, watching him sleep.

Sometimes, late at night, the big one imagined what it would be like to touch the little one like he wanted to. He imagined waking him with a kiss, running his fingers through that beautiful blonde hair and pressing his lips against those full lips. Even in his imagination, he was gentle. The little one was so fragile.

In that moment, on the fire escape, the big one was imagining picking the little one up and carrying him through the window, into the house. The air was damp. He had an excuse. He could pick the little one up and carry him into his room. He could lie the little one down on his bed. The little one didn’t deserve to be sleeping on the floor. He didn’t deserve to be sleeping on a mattress of couch cushions. He deserved a real, perfect bed. He deserved a better bed than the big one had, if he was being honest with himself, but he couldn’t really do anything about that now. Maybe someday… he cut himself off. There was no point in hoping that. There was no hope for someday. But still, he could imagine. And now, in his imagination, he wasn’t carrying the little one into his parents’ dingy apartment and laying him in him in his small bed with scratchy sheets. Instead, he was carrying him into a fancy apartment. It was huge, the kind he imagined rich people might live in. And there was a bed big enough to fit both of them. He was lying the little one down there, on sheets as smooth as silk, and running his fingers through his blonde hair. And then he was kissing him, in his imagination, their lips pressed tightly together. He imagined himself running his hands over that beautiful body peeling away the little one’s shirt and kissing him up and down his chest. He imagined what it would feel like to wrap his hands around the little one’s cock, to feel him shudder, to make him realize that it didn’t matter that the girls didn’t like him, because the big one liked him and they were both all that the other one needed.

And then his mind shifted, and he imagined the little one’s hands on him. He imagined the little one’s mouth on him, kissing and licking him the way some of the older girls had. The way he knew Bonnie wanted to. He groaned involuntarily, and his eyes flew open. The little one was awake, propped up on his elbows, staring at him. And the little one knew. His expression flickered quickly from concern, to confusion, to lust.

“Buck?” he whispered, afraid to break the spell.

“Stevie…” Bucky gasped back. 

And then Steve was sitting up and kissing him, and Bucky couldn’t think. Steve’s hands were on him and he was touching Steve and he couldn’t believe that he wasn’t imagining it. Except he wasn’t and that was amazing but it was also a bad thing because they were outside and somebody might see them.

“Wait. Wait, stop,” he choked out, and it killed him to say the words. 

Steve pulled away quickly, turning his face away. “Oh God. Oh, God Bucky, I’m so sorry. I… you were looking at me like that and I thought…”

“No, no baby no,” Bucky said quickly. “I was. You’re right. You didn’t… you’re amazing and I… Oh God baby I want that so bad but… But we’re out here and if somebody sees us... Please. Please, let’s go inside, please.” He thought he might lose his mind if Steve wasn’t kissing him again soon. “Please,” he whispered one more time.

Steve nodded, eyes wide and glassy, and they slid back in through the window. Bucky went first, and as Steve followed Bucky caught him in his arms, holding him tight and kissing him. Steve’s legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s hands slid up under Steve’s shirt, feeling the bones of his back. 

This time it was Steve who pulled away. “Your parents?” He gasped.

“Gone. Gone until Saturday.”

They were together again, and Bucky was using one hand to pull Steve’s shirt up over his head, holding him tightly with the other. “You tell me…” he spoke between kisses. “You tell me if it’s too much. If you… If you need me to stop. If… you can’t breathe right. You gotta tell me, ok? If I hurt you… If I ever hurt you, Stevie. I don’t think I could live with myself. That would be the end for me, ok? If I ever hurt you.”

Steve stopped and looked up at Bucky. His eyes were deep blue and his pupils were dilated. “You could never hurt me, Buck.”

Bucky moaned, and then he was walking, carrying Steve, into his parent’s bedroom, lying Steve down on their double bed. It wasn’t as big as the one in his imagination, but it was better than his own twin frame where his feet hung off the end. 

“Bucky,” Steve’s voice sounded pained. “Bucky, we can’t. Your folks…”

“We don’t owe them anything, baby.” Bucky murmured back. “We deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve everything, Stevie. I want to give you everything, but this is all I got, so let me give it to you, ok?”

Steve nodded wordlessly, and Bucky was kissing him again. 

“Tell me what you want,” Bucky whispered. “Tell me what you want. I want to make you so happy, Stevie. Please. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

Steve just shook his head, all language having left his brain. 

“God I’ve wanted you for so long.” Bucky was babbling now, he knew it. He couldn’t help himself. He was kissing up and down Steve’s chest just like he had imagined and the words were falling out of him. Everything he wanted to say and never thought he could was just coming out of his mouth, and he couldn’t stop it. “It hurts so much to look at you and not touch you. All day, every day, I just want to be kissing you. I want to hold you and mark you up and let everybody know you’re mine.”

Bucky stopped, a hand flying up to his mouth. Oh god, he had said too much. And now Steve was staring at him wide eyed and he would leave and Bucky would never get to kiss him again and…

“Yes…” Steve gasped out. “That. Buck, please. I want that too.” 

Bucky thought he might melt. “God, Stevie. You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” Bucky kissed Steve hard on the lips, then trailed down Steve’s neck and stopped to rest just below his collar bone, just above his heart. “I can’t. Not really. Not where someone would see. It’s too dangerous. But…” Bucky started licking and sucking and biting Steve. 

Steve groaned and shifted his hips in the bed, arching his back. “Please. Oh, Buck please. I need…” 

Bucky didn’t stop. He sucked and bit on Steve’s skin, making a little bruise.  
Steve clawed at Bucky’s back, balling Bucky’s shirt between his hands. “Take this off, Bucky please. It’s not fair.” He was pulling the shirt up, and Bucky let up just enough to let Steve take it over his head. Then he was back, and Steve was squirming underneath him, and Bucky reached one hand back and placed it over Steve’s boxers, feeling the hardness underneath. 

“Oh, God Bucky, please. Please!” Steve seemed close to tears. 

Bucky reached his hand into Steve’s boxers and wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock. The tip was dripping, and Bucky wet his palm and began to stroke Steve, slowly, still sucking a hickey onto his chest. 

“Fuck. Oh, fuck Bucky please don’t stop. Jesus Bucky I had no idea. Please.”

Bucky laughed and looked up at Steve, keeping his hand moving slowly. “Language, Stevie. Language.” He noticed that Steve didn’t even have the wherewithal to glare at him. Bucky stopped just long enough to take off Steve’s boxers, and then moved to sit behind him, leaning against the wall where a headboard should have been, and laying Steve’s head on his chest. He reached down and started working Steve again, watching with lust as Steve’s face contorted with pleasure. Bucky’s other hand traced across Steve’s chest, fingertips flicking across Steve’s nipples. He started working faster, pulling Steve the way he knew he liked it himself. He knew Steve wasn’t going to last very long, but he wanted to make the time he had the best possible. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie,” he whispered in Steve’s ear. “So fucking beautiful. You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to see you like this, to feel you move like this. T’ know it was me makin’ you sweat and moan.” Bucky’s hand was moving frantically now. All he wanted was to hear Steve scream. He felt like that was all he had ever wanted. Like his whole purpose for being was jerking his best friend off in his parent’s bed right now. Nothing else mattered. “God I want you so bad, Stevie. I’ve wanted you for so long. Just want to make you happy, baby. Anything to make you happy.”

Steve wailed as he exploded onto Bucky’s hand. 

Bucky held Steve gently, feeling him tremble in his arms. When Steve stopped shaking, Bucky kissed the top of his head and slid out from underneath him, laying him gently on the pillow. 

“Don’ go…” Steve muttered, slurring his words.

Bucky smiled down at him. “I’ll be right back, baby. Just gonna go get something to clean you up. Don’t move, ok?”

Bucky walked to the bathroom and got a washcloth, still amazed at what had just happened. He was harder than he had ever been, tenting out his boxers, but in this moment he didn’t care. He was so happy. He had made Steve happy. Steve wanted him, and he made Steve happy, and that was all that mattered. He wet the washcloth in the sink, and walked back to the bedroom. 

Steve hadn’t moved an inch since Bucky left him. “Didn’t wanna mess up your mom’s sheets,” he said with a shrug. The happiness in Steve’s eyes when he looked up at Bucky made Bucky feel so proud. Like he was worth something. He had value because he made Steve happy.

Bucky ran the washcloth across Steve’s stomach and chest carefully, wiping him clean. Then he leaned in and kissed him, gently this time. “You wanna sleep some more,” he asked. It’s almost morning, but it’s still real early.

Steve frowned and Bucky’s heart almost broke in half. Steve couldn’t frown. Steve needed to be happy. 

“What about you?” Steve asked.

“What about me?” Bucky replied without a hint of irony.

“Well you… I mean…” He stared at Bucky’s obvious erection. “Shouldn’t I…?” 

Bucky lay down next to Steve in the bed, and pulled the sheets up over both of them. “No, baby. I’m good. I just wanna make you happy.”

Steve was silent for a minute. Bucky was starting to wonder if he had fallen back asleep when Steve spoke: “But… But Buck. I want to… I mean, it would make me happy to… I…” 

“What do you want, baby? Anything. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

Steve sat up, and turned to look down at Bucky lying in bed. “You… you were telling me last week, about that thing,” Steve swallowed hard. “That thing that Betty did. I… I want to do that.”

Bucky smiled at him. “Yeah, of course baby. But you have to give yourself time to recover first. Next time.”

“No,” Steve shook his head. His voice was getting frantic. Bucky frowned. “No, I don’t want you to do it to me. Bucky. I want to do that to you.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak. “You want to do that... to me? Baby, you don’t hafta…”

“I don’t hafta nothing, Buck. I know that. But when you were describing it last week, all I could think about was how much I wanted to do that to you.”

“Jesus Christ, Stevie.”

Steve blinked. He wanted to cry. Had he gotten this wrong? “Is that not ok, Bucky? Do you not want me to…?”

“God, no Stevie. Of course I do. It’s just…”

“Well if you want it, and I want it, then why are we still talking about it?” Steve pulled the sheets back off of Bucky, and moved to kneel carefully between his legs. “You might have to give me some pointers, though.”

Bucky nodded, still in disbelief. Just, umm, use your hand for what you can’t… um… and uh, be careful with your teeth, I guess.”

Steve smiled, obviously pleased with himself for getting Bucky flustered. Bucky lifted his hips, and Steve pulled off his boxers. Then, maintaining eye contact for as long as possible, he leaned forward and took the head of Bucky’s cock into his mouth. 

It was strange at first. Steve wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do. He was worried, too, about scraping Bucky with his teeth. He swirled his tongue around Bucky’s tip, tasting him. 

“Baby,” he heard Bucky moan. Bucky’s hips shifted underneath him, urging him to action. 

Steve slid his mouth further down Bucky’s shaft, then back up. Then again, further than the first time, and back up. Then again, further still, and back up. Hand, he remembered, and he brought one hand up, wrapping it around the base of Bucky’s dick. Slowly he moved again, up and down, each time trying to go further than the last until he realized his hand was in his way. He put his hand back down, flattened his tongue in his mouth, hollowed out his cheeks, and tried again. Tears sprung into his eyes when he felt Bucky bump the back of his throat.

“Shit, Stevie. Holy fucking shit,” he heard Bucky curse above him.

Steve tried not to smile, unsure of what that might do in terms of his teeth, but he hummed in pleasure. To Steve’s surprise, Bucky gasped when he hummed. He tried it again, and Bucky grunted loudly, another string of curses falling from his lips. Steve started moving faster, emboldened in his newly discovered skill and Bucky’s encouragement. Suddenly, he felt Bucky’s hand tangling in his hair. 

“Wait, wait Stevie. I’m gonna come. You don’t… You can stop if you want.”

Steve didn’t have any clue why he would want to stop. That was the point, wasn’t it?

He started moving again, and Bucky started cursing again. Then he felt Bucky shudder and tense. He pressed his lips firmly against Bucky, not wanting to miss anything, and when Bucky came in his mouth, he swallowed it all. Then he sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling sheepish and proud and happy and nervous all at once. 

Bucky was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost, or like Steve was a ghost. “Baby… you didn’t have to do that. You coulda finished with your hands or…”

“You didn’t like it?” Steve asked, voice trembling.

“I loved it, Stevie. It was the greatest thing ever.” 

“Well I kinda liked it too,” Steve said looking away. “Is that bad?”

“Nothing you have ever done, or ever will do, could possibly be bad,” Bucky said with a deep sigh. “You are incapable of badness. Now come here and let me hold you.”

Steve smiled and crawled up into Bucky’s arms. The two boys lay in silence for a long time, then Steve spoke:

“Hey Buck?”

“Yeah, doll?”

“There are other things… that fellas do together. Would you…? Is that something you’d wanna do? Together? With me?”

Bucky turned and looked at him. “Let's just get one thing clear, ok? Ain’t nobody that I want to do nothing else with. It’s just you, punk. It’s just you for me. So you don’t ever gotta ask that part, got it?”

Steve blushed and nodded. 

“As for the other thing… Yeah, yeah baby I want to do everything with you. If you want it, I want it too. Everything. You got that.”

Steve nodded again. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I want that too.”

Bucky snuggled Steve closer. He had everything. He had Steve. Bucky knew that, as long as he had Steve, nothing could ever hurt him ever again. Nothing. 

Bucky looked out the window. 

The sun was rising over Brooklyn. 

Daybreak.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so, so, so sorry. I will understand if you hate me forever.


End file.
